


The New Tearling

by blue_mushroom



Category: The Queen of the Tearling Series - Erika Johansen
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Divergent, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It Ending, Fluff, Mentions of past self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_mushroom/pseuds/blue_mushroom
Summary: Kelsea's choice unites three women from the past present and future to destroy their enemy and when Kelsea awakens she finds herself on her nineteenth birthday all over again. But this time when she finds herself in a very different Tearling she isn't the only one who remembers the one that existed before.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Kelsea Raleigh

Kelsea watched as the swirling images around her faded into a peaceful darkness and the tight desperate grasp she held for control, slipped. She had to let go and desperately wish for the best- for everyone. She had to let go of Lazarus being over-taken by twisted manipulated monsters- Pen being covered by them but still slashing his sword through flesh and bones.

The first thing Kelsea heard was the sound of birds outside her window, proclaiming the arrival of morning. Kelsea scrunched her face up and sighed as she sat up- her mind in a muddle of confusion. Kelsea groggily rubbed her eyes before blinking them open slowly. The room she found herself in was at first surprising- startling as the last memories of what she had seen before falling asleep returned to her. This room was both familiar and unfamiliar- things she remembered picking out herself and yet never having seen before.

In a flash she was stumbling out of her bed- casting the covers off of herself and sending them fling in a messy heap. She nearly tripped over her own two feet as she rushed over to the mirror hung in her room. The need to see herself- as if to confirm that she really was still “Kelsea”. To confirm her identity in the simplest of ways.

The face she saw in the mirror was her own. Her full face and upturned nose- her green eyes confused and desperate looking back at her. She sighed, feeling her shoulders slump, her back crumple. Was this real? Was this a dream or perhaps everything else had been a dream and this was reality. Kelsea sank to her knees in front of her mirror- rolling up the sleeves of the night gown she’d fallen asleep in last night. She furrowed her brows as she reviewed her arms. The brand that had marked her since infancy as a queen-to-be was gone. Erased entirely- not faded or covered but missing as if it had never existed. And yet she could see it clearly in her mind, a mark she had seen thousands of times- something she recognized better than her own face. The self-inflicted wounds that had scarred her arms in sharp cuts were also gone. While Kelsea sat there she could only imagine that the marks on her hips and thighs had also vanished- or never existed at all.

Kelsea felt a tear roll down her face, previously she had verb too distracted to notice the tears filling her eyes. She swallowed and pulled her sleeves back down over her arms before wiping her face.

“Kelsea?” A voice called up from downstairs- startling Kelsea as she shook her head and looked up. Her mother’s voice. Queen Elyssa- or perhaps just Elyssa. Kelsea struggled to find her voice to answer the woman. When she did she found her voice shaking nervously.

“Yes?” Kelsea called out, looking up at the ceiling. She felt more tears falling down her face and dripping hot and uncomfortable down her chin. There was a quiet pause before she heard footsteps coming upstairs. Kelsea hurried to desperately start wiping her face in a panic- but it was no use.

"Kelsea, are you alright?" Peeking through her slightly opened bedroom door was her mother. Still wearing her nightgown, her robe was tied tightly around her waist the way it was every morning. Kelsea looked up at her- her blonde hair hadn't been brushed and styled yet but her morning mug of tea was already in her hands.

"Um," Kelsea fumbled for her words- realizing how she must look right now- crying on the floor in front of her mirror.

"Crying so soon? On your birthday?" Elyssa asked and the woman set her cup down on a dresser before kneeling next to Kelsea's side. That's when it hit Kelsea- it was her birthday- she was turning nineteen all over again.

"It's just that I-" Kelsea pushed her hand through her hair. She didn't look at her mother, she couldn't, even as Elyssa put a hand on her back. Kelsea was in a confused daze but Elyssa was the last person she wanted to see- she needed The Mace, she needed Pen or Andalie or anyone. She felt her mother wrap her arms around her but she didn't lean into the embrace.

"You know, Kelsea, I've had the oddest thing- like a dream or a memory coming to me," Elyssa cut herself off with a nervous chuckle as she stroked through Kelsea's dark hair. The woman sounded confused and almost like she was afraid. Kelsea felt her heart stop in her chest, wiggling in her mother's arms to look up at the other green-eyed woman.

"A dream like you were, like you were a queen once?" Kelsea let her voice tremble out. She watched the shock and surprise on her mother's face. The color drained out of Elyssa's fair, rosey skin. She was remembering the same thing.

"You remember!?" Kelsea shot up quickly- startling Elyssa. "The keep! The war! You remember right!?"

The woman who was sitting looked both terrified and confused as she nodded her head slowly. Kelsea wasn't worried about her though- there was too much on her mind. Her heart was pounding so hard it might leap out of her chest. She pushed her hair out of her face- her body felt restless- like she needed to run a marathon or jump or scream.

"So, so that means- means that it worked!" Kelsea gasped out, in disbelief herself as she searched her chest for the sapphires that weren't there.

"What worked?" Elyssa asked, her green eyes were filled with worry and confusion.

Kelsea stopped and stared at the woman for a moment, she pressed her palm to her chest. How was she supposed to explain this to her? She took a deep breath.

"You wouldn't know, they never worked for you anyway," Kelsea said in a quiet voice. Hadn't The Mace said so himself? The most those sapphires had ever done for Elyssa was getting tangled in her dress.

"I have to get dressed- there's so much I have to do," Kelsea felt the restlessness building up in her. She needed to move, she needed to do something. She shooed her mother out of her bedroom before rapidly getting dressed.

She was supposed to go to work today- but that was before all her memories came flooding back to her. Now she had more pressing matters than her nineteenth birthday and moving out. While she had these new memories she felt like she needed to confirm them- see for herself what the "new" Tearling was like and not just trust these memories. She tugged on her boots so quickly that she nearly fell over- brushing her hair like a madwoman as she rushed down the stairs.

She threw the door open and squinted as the morning sunlight came bursting through- bright and blinding.

But where would she start- Kelsea looked out at the cobblestone streets in front of her. People walked by attending to their morning affairs. Where was everyone- where should she even begin to look for them? And then a more terrifying thought hit her- what if they were never born? Kelsea shook her head- it was a reasonable fear- the events leading up to all of their lives had been changed entirely. But Kelsea couldn't accept that- she couldn't go without seeing The Mace again- without seeing Pen or Andalie or Elston or any of her companions. 

Kelsea picked up the pace as she walked- the library where she worked should be a good way to start. At least she could start rifling through files, birth certificates, police reports- anything that could bring up a familiar name.

Kelsea was hurrying up the stone steps of the library when the large door swung open. She stopped dead in her tracks- looking upwards.

And there stood someone Kelsea had seen a thousand times and a thousand times over. A face she knew better than her own- better than her mother's face. But in those eyes was something different than usual- some deep realization- words on the brink of her mouth.

"Carlin?" Kelsea asked even though she knew full well who was standing in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my sister who was my proofreader and my typist, greatly helping me get this chapter finished and posted faster and giving me time to work on chapter two. And thanks to anyone reading this for giving me a chance to reimagine a new ending, please feel free to leave any criticism or feedback if you have any. I always love hearing any feedback or ideas anyone has! I have heard about the prequel coming out next year, I'm not sure how it will change the characterization of Elyssa and Mace but for now I'm trying my best with the three published books and I can only hope it doesn't change things too much when it comes out, haha.


	2. Carlin Glynn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelsea tries to discover whether her memories of the Tearling before are limited to those only with Tear blood running through them or if Carlin somehow also remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's point of view focuses on Carlin.

Carlin felt the breath catch in her throat as she stood in the entrance of the library that she ran. There, stood on the steps was a young woman she'd known for a long time. But now she wasn't sure anymore- she'd had the strangest dream last night. In fact, she wasn't sure it was a dream. And that scared her because Carlin always knew. She was always logical, careful, and skeptical. She shouldn't be so unsure about a silly dream. She didn't even realize Kelsea was saying her name at first- she was so lost in her own thoughts. 

"Yes, Kelsea?" She finally asked and noticed the young woman's face drop in disappointment. 

Kelsea smoothed over the sweater she was wearing as if she were nervous, her face was downcast as she glanced at the marble stairs. She was not the beauty her mother was by far, but Carlin had always liked her much better anyway. There was meaning behind Kelsea's smiles. Kelsea's eyes were never empty and thoughtless, her green eyes always swirled with ideas and thoughts even when she was just sitting and reading. There was substance to Kelsea's character. 

"Are you alright Ms. Glynn?" Kelsea asked, concern was written across her round face. Carlin felt a pause- so Kelsea must have noticed the confusion she felt.

"I'm fine, Kelsea, come let's get to work," Carlin said as she pushed back the thoughts that lingered on the tip of her tongue. She watched the young woman nod and come up the stairs behind her- out of the corner of her eye Carlin saw Kelsea pushing back her dark hair. 

Carlin watched as the nineteen-year-old got to work at her desk- sorting through a particularly large donation of books the library had received. It would be a while before they were all labeled, recorded, and sorted into the library but Kelsea was a diligent worker. Which was exactly why Carlin had assigned much of it to her. It seemed that something was on Kelsea's mind and Carlin couldn't help but wonder for a moment if it could be related to what Carlin herself was wrestling with. But it couldn't be that- Kelsea was a young woman, not a child but still young- any number of things could be on her mind. 

Carlin moved to her desk, her work area, and a source of much pride for her. She opened up the first drawer and took out a small but neatly wrapped package. She hadn't wrapped it herself, her arthritis would have seared up something fierce. But she hoped the sentiment was still there. She picked it up and tucked it under her arm as she walked over to Kelsea's little work area. The young woman was engrossed in her work and it took her a moment to look up and notice Carlin. 

Carlin watched as Kelsea blinked and looked up at her- her green eyes big. 

"It's your birthday isn't it?" Carlin put a mild smile on her face as she set down the gift in front of the young woman. But of course, she already knew it was her birthday. Kelsea looked surprised as she sat up straighter in her chair. 

"Carlin you didn't have to-" 

"And you're moving out today, right?" Carlin cut her off, not giving her the chance to protest. She gave the box a little pat. "Go on, open it," Carlin insisted. 

Kelsea nodded and took the box, carefully unwrapping it. Carlin had never been overly affectionate and she knew it, so maybe that's why Kelsea looked so flustered. She watched the teenager open up the expensive stationery set she'd gotten for her. Carlin thought it was an appropriate gift for her, Kelsea had an appreciation for writing, and since she was getting her new flat maybe she would need it. Carlin watched as a smile started to creep across Kelsea's face. Carlin felt some relief- she liked her gift. 

"I thought since you are moving out today," Carlin explained. 

Kelsea nodded and then Carline noticed the girl's face. Her dark brows were knitted together and her full lips were trembling. Carlin felt a pang in her heart- her breath catch in her throat. Why was she crying? Of course, the workplace was no place for tears but today Carlin couldn't bring herself to scold her- especially after being so confused this morning. She couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going on.

"Kelsea?" Carlin pulled up the spare chair in Kelsea's little office and took a seat. "What's wrong?" She asked and watched as Kelsea began almost frantically wiping at her eyes. The nineteen-year-old shook her head without speaking- some of her dark hair falling in her face. Kelsea tried to pull herself together, looking away from Carlin.

"Even if I could tell you," Kelsea sighed. "I don't think you would understand." The young woman sounded downcast, more than that in fact, she sounded defeated. Carlin reached out and laid a gentle hand on the nineteen-year-old's shoulder.

"Do I really seem that stern?" Carlin raised an eyebrow- trying to lighten the mood even just a bit. She felt a pang in her heart at the notion that Kelsea- this girl that she raised- no her employee- couldn't come to her. Kelsea seemed surprised- she looked up at Carlin with watery green eyes before she seemed to melt in her seat. 

"Well, you don't have to tell me anything, I know this is a challenging part of your life, you're going through a lot of transitions right now," Carlin knew it sounded generic, but it was the best she could do if Kelsea didn't actually tell her what was bothering her. "But if there's something you'd like to talk to me about, or you feel your mother can't talk with you then," Carlin paused and gave her a tight little smile, a rare sight. "You could come to me."

Kelsea nodded but to Carlin, she didn't look too reassured. Carlin pressed her lips together into a tight line. 

"Perhaps we're all a bit off today," Carlin said more quietly. "I've been having a strange morning myself," She admitted. Kelsea seemed to sit up a bit after hearing that. Carlin could see her green eyes thinking, words in her mind unspoken. 

"Every since I woke up this morning, I've been off," Kelsea offered, she wasn't saying much, it was like she was waiting for Carlin to offer up more information. "I guess you could say I had a very strange dream," She added after a few quiet moments. 

Carlin frowned, a strange dream? That was one way to phrase it. She furrowed her brow, her narrow eyebrows knitted together in thought. 

"I think I had a very strange dream as well," Carlin sighed, "Like being in another life, I've never experienced a dream so vivid that it threw me off for this long," She mustered up a bit of a chuckle to try and lighten the air between them. Saying it out loud she suddenly felt silly, what a strange thing to talk about with her employee, Kelsea must think she was silly. After all, she was a far more skeptical girl than her mother, far more rational. She must think Carlin was being ridiculous or that she was losing her mind. The response she actually got couldn't be farther from what she expected. 

"Well, Ms. Glynn, are you entirely sure that it was a dream?" Kelsea asked slowly, looking up at Carlin. 

"What are you saying?" Carlin asked cautiously. Maybe the teen was just pulling her leg.

"Well, what if multiple people all had a similar experience, or all claimed to have the same dream without realizing it?" Kelsea was speaking slowly, softly. Like this was some taboo subject, but considering they were talking about shared dreams, maybe they were. "I mean, there's. only so far a coincidence like that can go, hypothetically speaking," Kelsea tacked on. 

"Well, I think that would be pretty far-fetched," Carlin said, she was wondering what Kelsea was trying to get at, but at the same time, she felt a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

"What did you dream about? Did you dream about living in a cottage up near the Fairwitch?" Kelsea asked. 

Carlin felt her heart stop for a moment. She hoped she didn't look at surprised as she felt. Kelsea was quiet, waiting for her to respond. 

"How did you..?" Carlin trailed off, she wasn't even sure how to finish her own question, it sounded so ridiculous.

"Because I think I had the same dream, or at least we experienced the same events," Kelsea said, for a moment her hand brushed over her sweater, like she was reaching for a necklace that wasn't there. Sapphires that weren't there. 

"You know more than you're telling me," Carlin said suspiciously, if this was true, if it was somehow true then Kelsea seemed to have a far better grasp on what was going on. And as implausible as it all seemed Carlin felt a horrible pang in her gut that told her that it was true. All those memories, all of those feelings, sights, and smells and tastes even. All of the conflicted emotions, all the trials she had faced, watching Kelsea grow up knowing her destiny. Watching Kelsea- the child she had raised for nineteen years riding away, out of her hands, out of her protection. And knowing what she and Barty had to do, taking their seats for the last time. Carlin shook her head. 

"You're right, I think I know what happened, well, because I think I am the reason why it happened," Kelsea said quietly, she swallowed and looked away as if doubting herself for a moment. 

"I didn't really have a choice," Kelsea began to explain, "Everything was going to be destroyed, not just the keep, but the guards, the kingdom, everyone was going to die." She was fidgeting nervously in her chair now. 

"So when I had the sapphires and the ones in the crown, I had to make a choice," She looked up at Carlin. It was a face Carlin had seen many times when Kelsea was afraid of being scolded as a child. She saw that now painted clearly across her face. "So I tried to make things better, and then next thing I knew I was turning nineteen again," She added softly. 

Carlin leaned back in her chair, she smoothed out the nonexistent creases in the lap of her dress and ran a hand through her hair. She needed a moment to collect herself. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to think for a second. She knew the sapphires were more than they seemed, after all, there was a reason she didn't give Kelsea the second sapphire until t was time to become the queen, but she could have never imagined this. Especially after seeing them lie dormant for so many years asleep against Elyssa's breast. 

"So things didn't just end when I-?" Carlin cut herself off, not wanting to speak about her own death out loud. She watched as Kelsea shook her head, her hands nervously smoothed over the box of stationary Carlin had given her. 

"A lot happened," Kelsea said, and when she spoke Carlin sensed a wisdom beyond her years, that whatever had happened Kelsea must have seen much struggle and grief. 

Carlin stood up, she was surprised that she didn't faint or topple over under her own confusion and shock. 

"I think we both could use some tea," She said, and let loose another rare little smile. She watched as Kelsea nodded, a bit of relief washing over her form as she relaxed and stood up with Carlin. 

"I think you're right," Kelsea returned and Carlin had never heard a nineteen-year-old sound old beyond their years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very hard for me, I struggled a lot with figuring out how things would go and Carlin's characterization. We see so little of her in the books I had to work off what limited glimpses of her we got. But I still wanted to give her a chapter because I feel she's extremely important, especially in Kelsea's life. This fic is going to be more challenging for me because I would like to have chapters with all different perspectives from different characters so there's going to be a lot of guesswork on my end with filling the holes the author left us. 
> 
> If you have any critiques let me know, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you very much for reading and giving this fic a chance!


	3. Andrew Alcott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelsea seeks out one of her guards from the old Tearling as she still makes sense of everything a few weeks after the change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mentions of past self-harm as mentioned in Invasion of the Tearling, but is not very graphic. This chapter also focuses on Pen's POV.

Andrew had spent the last couple of weeks walking around in a sort of glossed over haze, the way someone felt when they drowsy from taking too much medicine or waking up after a night of heavy drinking. He still functioned, he did everything he needed to do, but he felt as if someone else was behind the wheel. He'd been fine until one day he'd suddenly awoken different than his whole life before then, from a dream that had really felt nothing like a dream. And even weeks later it hadn't faded from his mind, it hadn't become less vivid or detailed the way dreams usually melted into a fog by the end of the day. The most solace he took from the whole thing was apparently that other people were experiencing the same thing, some people even shared the same dreams, experiences they had had together. Though few people openly spoke about it the whispers on the streets of New London were abuzz with talk of mass hallucinations, vivid dreams. A phycological phenomenon perhaps? Or hallucinations brought on by a tainted water supply? Andrew was less interested in what it meant for everyone as he was interested in what it meant for himself. 

Today he found himself walking down a dreary New London street, pulling his coat a bit tighter around his lean form to better shield him from the cold wind that was sweeping through the city. He felt like a ghost of his former self, but then again maybe it wasn’t even real. But he’d gone from having such an adventurous life to being a far more mundane person, seemingly overnight. He’d fended off death at the tip of his sword and fought alongside some of the best warriors their country had seen in an age. He’d taken sacred vows then ran deeper than God’s Ocean. He’d watched a war unfold first hand and watched the reshaping of a kingdom at the dinner table. He’d been a queen’s guard, respected and selective, and even feared with that grey cloak. A certain mystery had surrounded them all, but now he was an ordinary man living an ordinary life. Or maybe he always had been. 

“Pen!” A voice called out from behind him, and Andrew felt a touch at his shoulder as he began to turn and see who had called him. The face he saw was familiar to him, looking up at him with bright green eyes set on that round face. Kelsea. 

“Actually it’s Andrew, you must have me mistaken for someone else,” Andrew said and he watched her face fall. She looked hurt, disappointed, like she was fumbling for words on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she just let go of the hand that had still been lingering on his coat and stepped backward. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I-“ She mumbled quietly, her brows were knitted together and she sounded confused. 

Andrew cracked, he couldn’t hold his nonchalant face anymore. He broke into a slightly crooked little smile and loosened his stance on his feet. “No, it is me,” He laughed, “or at least I think it is.” 

The relief he watched flood over Kelsea’s form, her shoulders slumped and she sighed so deeply Andrew was sure there was no air left in her lungs anymore. 

“Pen you bastard!” Kelsea huffed and she nudged his arm a bit roughly. “You really had me going there,” She pulled her own coat closer around herself and seemed to sway from side to side a bit before taking a step closer to him. 

“You and your mouth,” Pen rolled his eyes. “Is it really you?” He asked a bit more quietly as he studied her face. She looked the way he remembered her the day he met her, the same long dark hair and expressive green eyes. But she seemed different this time, not physically but maybe just in the way she held herself or the worry that had flashed across her face, this was a Kelsea that had seen much. And yet as familiar as he was, part of him was still surprised that she was even real, she wasn’t just some figment his mind had conjured up after drinking tainted water. 

“Were you expecting the me that looked different and lost the extra weight? Or were you expecting me to be all bruised after being in the Mort?” Kelsea asked and raised a dark eyebrow with that typical smart ass tone of voice of hers. 

“I’m surprised that there is a Kelsea at all, I wasn’t sure if you existed at all, to begin with,” sighed Andrew, or was he Pen? 

"You thought it wasn't real? I was worried that you didn't remember," Kelsea said quietly and Pen watched her as she looked around a bit nervously. 

"Ah maybe we should go somewhere out of the cold," Pen offered, he swallowed. He had a feeling they would be talking for a while and standing on the side of the street didn’t sound too appealing. “Are you busy?” He asked, he kicked himself mentally, realizing how ridiculous a question like that sounded in comparison to everything else. 

“No, I came to find you,” Kelsea said and Pen nodded in response. He reached over and grabbed her arm, similar to the way he remembered leading her around as her close guard once and a while, not an overly personal touch but still there all the same. 

"Then let's go to my place, we'll have some tea or something," Pen offered a bit awkwardly. He watched her nod quietly and began to lead the way along to his place. He paused at his door as he unlocked it, suddenly remembering the small messes he'd left about his home. It wasn't as if he lived in squaller but he was a bachelor who lived alone. He opened the door and stood back for Kelsea to enter. 

"What's mine is yours, Majesty," Pen cracked another half of a crooked smile. He watched Kelsea nod and step inside, wiping her boots on the doormat before looking around. For a moment Pen thought she was much like a deer examining its surroundings before stepping out of the forest into the pasture. 

"It's not Majesty, not anymore," Kelsea said as she looked back at Pen following her inside. Pen stared at her for a moment before shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck. 

" And I guess it's not Pen anymore either," Pen laughed nervously as he moved to put some dishes in the basin he'd left out. But he was sure Kelsea had already noticed by now, too bad he didn't tidy up this morning. Just his luck that today he'd run into someone important. 

"Then what should I call you, Pen or Andrew?" Kelsea asked as she followed Pen over to the little coffee table and she took her seat on the little sofa there. She crossed her legs and looked about the little living room. 

"You should already know, you can call me anything," Pen said and he felt his ears burn a bit, hopefully not enough that she would notice. Then again he could always blame it on the cold. 

"I'll call you Pen, I like Pen, it's unique," Kelsea said quietly and smiled a bit as she watched Pen hanging up his coat. He could feel her eyes studying him, he couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. "And it's what I'm more familiar with," Kelsea added after a moment of quiet. 

"Have you found the others yet?" Pen asked Kelsea as he returned from putting a kettle on the stove. He took his seat on the couch next to Kelsea but with a significant space between them. 

"No, I came looking for you first," Kelsea admitted and she shifted a bit on the couch, pushing her dark hair over her shoulders, running her fingers through her locks. 

"Not The Mace?" Pen asked and he raised a brown eyebrow as he looked at Kelsea. 

"I haven't found him, not yet," Kelsea admitted. "I had to come find you though so sometimes after work I just would walk around the streets looking," She said quietly and Pen caught her glancing away for a moment. 

"Even after what happened at Elyssa's house?" Pen asked, he swallowed thickly. He may be a brave man but Kelsea's sadness and Kelsea's wrath made him nervous. But could he be blamed? He watched her destroy the Arvath with a flick of the finger, tear a man from the inside out on the execution stage and summon lightning from the sky and break the clouds themselves into rain. 

"I know you put your job first, I can't change that, but I still needed to see if you were out here, find out if you still existed in the first place," Kelsea's voice was soft and her eyes were distant. It was a lot like that day when she found out he would no longer serve as her close guard, she looked wounded. Wounded but resigned, she would let Pen go, and that resignation to give him up was written all over her face. Pen wondered how far the extent of her feelings went, they had agreed to certain terms that their relationship was purely physical but Pen was sure that wasn't how it turned out for either one of them. 

"So do you know what happened?" Pen paused after he asked that, correcting himself, "Of course you know, what happened? The last thing I remember was being in the keep when those things came in." He found himself becoming quieter and quieter.

He could remember Kelsea kneeling down to grab the crown, and then she froze kneeling there holding that crown atop her head as they became surrounded. They had come in like a swarm as the guards- or what were left of them surrounded Kelsea. One had jumped at the queen and Pen had slashed through it, spilling the contents of its stomach through the air and onto the Keep stone floor in a disgusting display. And at the same time, he felt one jump onto his back, sinking teeth like knives into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. He couldn't call for help from the other guards were quickly being overrun as they held the last line between their queen and those things. As he bucked one off his back another latched onto his leg before he could pierce it with his sword, and then another and another. Pain stabbed through all different parts of his body and he could only steal a glance around him one last time as he felt himself being dragged down. He knew at any day he could die in the line of duty and yet when it was actually happening it seemed otherworldly. Next thing he'd known he was waking up in a comfortable bed in his house, rubbing his eyes and looking around himself in a confused daze. 

"Pen! Pen?" Kelsea's voice rang through his ears, he blinked and looked up at her. The former queen had gotten significantly closer to him, her brows furrowed. "Hey, can you hear me?" Kelsea asked and waved her hand in front of his face a bit. 

Pen shook his head, had he been daydreaming? He sat up a bit straighter and cleared his throat. "Ah, sorry I must have gotten distracted," He explained a bit sheepishly. He watched as Kelsea seemed to relax slinking back on the couch a bit. 

"I'm surprised you didn't just fall asleep the way you used to all the time, especially in the library," Kelsea teased and crossed her arms in front of her. 

"I was caught up, in remembering what happened, when everything changed," Pen felt a bit sick to his stomach at recalling it. He rubbed his temples for a moment, surprised at the thin layer of sweat that coated his skin there. His heart was pounding in his chest as if he was reliving it all over again. He looked up when he felt a hand lay on top of his own shoulder. 

"You were a brave man Pen, and a loyal guard, right until the very end," Kelsea said, and her tone of voice was almost like the comforting condolences someone would give at a funeral, reassuring them that their loved one was a good person. She looked like she was thinking again, those green eyes were swirling. A moment later Pen found out what she was thinking. "Did you have any regrets?"

Pen paused, he swallowed, the strangeness of the whole conversation made him a bit nervous. He thought back on his life, the many things he'd seen and done. He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. "Just a few, I suppose, I died how I expected to die, as a guard," He said and watched Kelsea nodding along with his words. "And what about you, Kelsea?" He corrected himself before calling her "majesty" again. 

Kelsea swallowed, she removed the hand she'd placed on his shoulder, her green eyes almost went blank for a moment as she stared at her lap. She was quiet when she finally spoke, "I have lots of regrets." 

Pen was quiet, what could he say to make her feel better? She'd been through more than most people even in such a short time. She'd had to make decisions to run an entire kingdom, she'd killed and almost been killed, beaten, and taken prisoner. She had an enormous burden placed on her shoulders at only nineteen, and the people who raised her died and left her alone to navigate the world. The tea kettle in Pen's little kitchen began to screech and he stood up to go make them something to drink, though right about now he'd rather have a mug of ale instead of a cup of tea. 

He wasn't very good at making tea, it was always too bitter or too sweet and he didn't make it often. But he always kept some in the house for when guests came over. He noticed his hand was trembling as he poured two cups for the both of them, the stream of water shook as it spilled into the mugs. He added a bit of honey, realizing he didn't have any cream to add to Kelsea's the way she preferred it. He carried the cups in either hand when he popped back into the living room, he stopped and stood there. In front of him, Kelsea was sat on the couch her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling as she muffled the sounds of her crying. 

He set down the mugs on the little tea table and sat down next to her, this time shoulder to shoulder. He didn't ask what was wrong, there were many numbers of things that could be bothering Kelsea. After a few moments, she raised her face up and looked at Pen. Her eyes were blurry and her face was red, her full lips were trembling. 

"I've done so many terrible things, Pen," Her voice was wobbling as she tried to speak through tears. "I didn't turn out to be the person I wanted to be," tears dripped down her face and onto her lap even as she tried to wipe them away. 

"None of us come out the way we want to," Pen offered, he pushed some of the hair out of her face. He reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his own shoulder. "I thought you were a good queen," He offered quietly. 

"I killed my own father Pen!" Kelsea's voice was getting louder, more panicked now. "I- I killed Arlen Thorne like that- in front of everyone!" She grabbed onto Pen's shirt tightly, forming a fist in her hand. "I- I'm a terrible person, Pen!" She spluttered before just giving way to sobs on his shoulder. 

"Kelsea," Pen stopped to cup her face in both his hands. Her skin was hot and wet with tears. "Kelsea, that's not true, you did the best you could," Pen reasoned but she seemed unconvinced. He was suddenly reminded of all the scars he'd seen along her thighs and inner arms. The way she'd torn at herself while she was the Queen, bloodstains he noticed on the inside of her clothes as he took them off of her. The guilt she must carry must be enormous. He watched her close her eyes in his hands and weep softly. 

"You really did the best you could," He said, bringing his face a bit closer to hers as he spoke. "And besides, you didn't do those things now, your father is probably alive out there somewhere, and Arlen Thorne is probably out there still being a crook," He cracked a tiny grin hoping to cheer her up. "Just like how I'm still here, but clearly I'm not named after dogfighting any more am I?" He asked, tracing a finger around the back of her red ear. 

“But I still did those things Pen, and if you remember, and Carlin remembers, then,” She folded into Pen’s hand a bit more, like she was hiding from him in his own palms. “Then that means they remember that too, they remember what I did to them,” She said and her voice sounded broken. 

“But don’t forget all the things you did that were good, all the people you saved, countless lives, and you never gave up on your kingdom no matter what,” Pen urged, he found himself sounding a bit more desperate now. He wanted Kelsea to believe him, maybe it was the loyalty he felt as a guard, those oaths that were so sacred or maybe it was more personal, the way he felt about Kelsea. 

Kelsea went quiet for a few seconds before she leaned forward, pressing her face against his chest. Pen blinked but stayed still, at least they would have time for the tea to cool down. Pen patted her head softly for a few moments as she tried to collect herself. 

“What am I supposed to do now, Pen? I used to be a queen, I used to be in charge of a whole kingdom, and now I’m all alone, I don’t have my guards, my crown…” She wept into Pen’s shirt. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I lost my sapphires, I lost everything," She cried. 

Pen blinked, even her sapphires? Those jewels that had killed a man right in front of them all, had summoned some sort of blue lightning or something. Kelsea had told him she was not practicing witchcraft, it was Pen's understanding that the Tear sapphires had some sort of power to them that he didn't fully grasp. 

"Wait, you don't have your sapphires? What happened, Kelsea did you make this happen?" Pen asked, remembering what he had been wondering about earlier before he'd been so distracted. He watched as Kelsea looked up at him before sitting back and wiping her face. 

"The crown, the crown had sapphires too, and when I put it on something happened," Kelsea started and looked over, grabbing one of the neglected cups of tea and taking a sip. Pen watched her face twitch for a moment, maybe he hadn't added enough honey. 

"Another one of your visions?" Pen asked cautiously and he watched her shake her head while swallowing her tea. 

"Different, I saw him, William Tear, and he saw me," Kelsea explained, unlike her other visions where was seeing through someone else's eyes she had been there. She had been Kelsea and William Tear had been there, watching a flood of memories wash by the both of them. 

Pen stared, William Tear was the founder of the Tearling, the man who led the crossing. He furrowed his brows, wondering what William Tear had to do with this all. "So what happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being longer than expected and is actually ended up being split into chapters three and four (hopefully coming soon!) since I didn't want it to drag on too long. Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope I did a decent job playing around in Pen's head! Feel free to let me know what you think. Thanks again!


	4. The True Queen’s Last Declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between the former queen and her former close guard gets a bit tense as they try to discover where their complicated relationship lies in this new world, or if it has no place at all.

Kelsea remembered both the first and last time she wore her mother’s crown, her crown, Row’s crown. It was her birthright- her destiny to wear it. But she could have never imagined what it really was. Seeing the blank whiteness of the cottage- the empty books whose pages held nothing. In every sense of the word, it was surreal. She watched Pen’s face as she described it to him - he was listening intently, his mug of tea forgotten. 

“He said he didn’t know who I was, but he knew I must be one of his descendants,” Kelsea paused to sip her tea, even if it wasn’t exactly the way she would have prepared it. “He had an accent - not a Mort accent or anything like that, it would have been an English accent,” Though Kelsea knew Pen wouldn’t have any way of knowing what an English accent was. 

“But I knew who he was, I had seen him in my visions before,” Kelsea remembered. “And then we stood there and watched it all, everything, the crossing, the town, the invasions, everything washing by,” She felt her stomach turn at such intense and abstract memories. “And I could see myself, in the Keep with everyone, I saw what happened to you, Pen,” Kelsea looked at her lap. All of her guards had served her right up to the end, the bitter and painful end. 

“I had to make a choice, I had to take a risk,” Kelsea felt her face heating up dangerously again. Hopefully, she would end up sobbing again, she’d end up dehydrating herself at this rate. 

“I just wanted to save the Tearling, so I went back to when I thought we could make the most change- when things really turned for the worst,” Kelsea said quietly. “So I did,” She looked at Pen nervously. So many things were different now, she wondered what sort of ills she may have caused, people who may not be born now. She was unsure, she kept going back and forth for the past two weeks, wondering if there was something she could have done even better, something else she could have changed.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Kelsea finally asked, the question that had been on her mind since she’d woken up. When she saw the way things were, the people on the streets, the peace their country experienced she thought she must have made the right choice. But when she thought about her loved ones, the people she missed she found herself second guessing everything she did. “And don’t just say you support me because I was the queen, I’m not the queen anymore, you owe me no loyalty,” Kelsea added hurriedly, worried that she wouldn’t get an honest response from Pen. 

Pen leaned back, crossing his legs and looking up at the ceiling for a few minutes, thinking. Kelsea should have expected this, it was a bit of a loaded question. She listened as Pen whistled under his breath very quietly for a few moments. 

“It’s a big change isn’t it? But you forget, we’d been watching that kingdom sliding into the mud even before you were born, hundreds and hundreds of our friends, family members have been ravaged by war or stolen and carted off to the Mort,” Pen said, his voice displayed more than just words, they were memories of his own experiences, ones the kingdom all seemed to share. 

“There was so much suffering in the old Tearling, I don’t think it could have gotten much worse when it all ended,” Pen said quietly. “You grew up in that cabin in the woods, you didn’t grow up wondering if your name or your loved ones name would be pulled for the lottery,” He explained. He pushed a hand through his chestnut brown hair. He was remembering years of anxiety, a generation of trauma, an era of fear. 

“I’m thankful we don’t have to live through that anymore, and I bet the others feel similarly,” Pen offered Kelsea up a smile to reassure her. 

“I won’t know that for sure until I find them,” Kelsea sighed and took another sip of her tea. She closed her eyes as she swirled her tea in the bottom of her cup slowly. She still wasn’t convinced she’d get so many glowing reviews. She remembered watching Carlin’s face as she told her about the many mistakes she’d made as queen. The quiet disappointment, knowing it could have been worse but it was far from the ideals she had raised Kelsea to strive for. She had failed to conduct fair trials of traitors, she had turned down an alliance in return for her hand in marriage, she had put her people in danger despite her best efforts. “But part of me is afraid, I want to see everyone so badly, but I think of Lazarus, what he would say,” Kelsea admitted softly. The Mace’s approval was fickle and fleeting even if his loyalty was not. His quiet disapproval hurt Kelsea more than the beatings she’d received in the Mort or the knife in her shoulder at her coronation. He may not be her father, but apart from Barty he may as well have been. He was her protector, her captain and critic all at once. 

Pen crossed his arms, he nodded his head understandingly. The Mace had been his boss after all, and as much as Kelsea didn’t know too much about the inner workings of her guard but she could imagine how scary Lazaurus could be. She remembered the night her room was broken into revealing a traitor must have been among them, the chair shattering against the wall like splinters of driftwood. Fire in his eyes so cold it kill everyone in that room. And apparently he had been more fearsome when he was younger, terrifying and wild. She wondered if the other guards who knew her mother were equally as terrifying to people at some point, what kind of lives had they lived in the old Tearling? 

“I’d be more surprised if they weren’t looking for right as we speak, in fact I’m surprised they haven’t found you, and of course, Elyssa,” Pen’s voice had a touch of sarcasm and playfulness to it at the mention of Kelsea’s mother. Kelsea winced internally to think of what sort of things Pen must have heard about her mother. Not even with her hunger for knowledge did she want to know all that. 

“I hope so,” Kelsea said and she set her now empty tea cup back down on Pen’s slightly cluttered little coffee table. She felt herself hesitating as she let go of the cup, not sure what to say or what to do. Memories of their last real talk still felt fresh in her mind, even if they had so many unfinished things to talk about, she wasn’t sure if she could say it now. She stood up and adjusted her coat around her form. 

“I’d better start heading back to my flat, before it gets too dark,” Kelsea muttered, she herself was still deciding what to do, and her uncertainty was evident in her voice. “And I wouldn’t want to keep you,” Kelsea added, she had no idea what Pen’s life was like now. How busy he was, what he did for a living or who he was involved with. Really, they were strangers all over again. 

“I wish you would keep me,” Pen’s voice caught Kelsea off her guard as she stared out at Pen’s little living area. 

“I’m not your queen anymore, I can’t keep you, Pen,” Kelsea said quietly, she didn’t turn around to look at Pen, she didn’t think she could. Not while keeping it all together. 

“Maybe so, maybe I’m too caught up in the past,” Pen laughed a bit and Kelsea heard him standing up. 

“Well it’s like you wanted, isn’t it? You aren’t my close guard anymore,” Kelsea turned to look at Pen, studying her face. There was a touch of hurt in her voice, bitterness even. Now she felt even more alone, thinking of going to her little flat by herself, no guards, no chambermaid or advisors. 

“Kelsea,” Pen started but stopped himself. Maybe he was feeling just as conflicted as Kelsea was, or maybe he was just trying to soften the blow. Kelsea shifted her weight between her two feet, waiting for him to speak, her teeth nervously biting the inside of her full cheek. 

“I’ve always loved you Kelsea, I still do, and I think I always will,” Pen said and Kelsea felt her stomach drop, her gut twist. Hurt, and anger that always seemed to burn just beneath the surface came bubbling up. 

“Pen! That doesn’t make any sense, I know you were a guard, I know it was important to you. But it doesn’t make any sense- why would you tell me that, you’re just making it harder for me,” Kelsea huffed, and was thankful her voice hadn’t cracked again, despite it being sore and raw from her sobbing earlier. She felt one of her hands ball up into a little tight fist, not unlike the way her throat felt right about now. 

“I understand if you’re upset with me, if you don’t want to have anything to do with me, I understand,” Pen said and he stood still, he didn’t reach out and touch Kelsea or grab her shoulder or anything. She almost disliked that more than if he would have. It felt even more cruel, cold. Not only that but she found it confusing, was he pining this on her? 

“You’re the one who made this decision Pen, I won’t make it for you,” She huffed as she stepped aside, frustration rising. She watched as Pen raised an eyebrow in response, his brown eyes shifted slightly, thinking. Or maybe he was just wary of making Kelsea more upset. Though these days it wasn’t like she had her sapphires, she wasn’t dangerous anymore. She sighed and pushed back some of her long dark hair which had fallen over her shoulder, getting in the way once again. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, none of it even happened in this Tearling,” Kelsea started moving towards the door. 

She was one her way out when felt a hand much larger than her own grab her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She gasped a bit and pulled her arm free as Pen’s grip quickly softened. “If you’ve got something to tell me then, say it Pen,” She huffed a bit and didn’t turn back around to look at him.

“You’re as stubborn as ever, aren’t you Kelsea?” Pen asked and Kelsea frowned. She wasn’t in the mood to be teased, she had far too much on her mind. “If you’d wait a moment I would tell you, I still want to see you, I still want to be in your life, Kelsea.” 

Kelsea swallowed, looking up at the wall opposite of her. She lifted her chin just a bit as she found her voice. “I’m not interested in the arrangement we had before, I have a job and my own flat now, things are different,” Kelsea finished her statement by turning to look at Pen. 

“And a boyfriend?” Pen teased, the sudden shift in seriousness surprised Kelsea, snapped her out of her little spell of anger. That was probably his intention, her guards always seemed to tease her. She crossed her arms, feeling her face burn a bit, hopefully it didn’t show on her face. 

“I have more important things to worry about than men, Pen you should know that of all people,” She huffed, feeling embarrassed again. Even in this Tearling Kelsea didn’t exactly find herself swatting away hordes of hopeful suitors. Unlike her beautiful mother Kelsea wasn’t a rare beauty or a seductress. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Pen teased and Kelsea rolled her eyes at him. 

“You even said it yourself that I’m not pretty, not without Lily’s body and face,” Kelsea said and she hoped that she sounded more irritated than sad. How could she have such a beautiful mother, a handsome father and then look so far from both of them? Though she knew she shouldn’t think about it, it wasn’t important anyway. 

“And what does it matter anyway, all the beauty in the world means nothing if it’s on the body of the wrong person, what has beauty ever done for the Tearling? What has beauty ever done for me?” Pen asked, his hands gestured with open palms as he spoke. “But I understand, you don’t have to be a queen anymore, you can be anyone you want to be, I won’t let my affection for you get in the way, I won’t get in your way, Kelsea.” 

“When it comes to mixed messages I think you’re a professional, you should try being a politician,” Kelsea watched as Pen shook his head and smiled as she teased him. She sighed, she wasn’t going to say it out loud but those feelings that she had built up for Pen still existed, even in this time, in this New Tearling. 

“Perhaps, we should start from the beginning again, as friends first,” Kelsea suggested softly. Now without her position as queen she may be less important but she was so much more free. She could go out now, she could get to know people and make friends and date like a normal ordinary young woman. She had her own flat and made her own schedule, she made her own life now. She could just get to know Pen in a casual setting, without fear of hiding it from the other guards. “And if you’re interested in something like that I don’t work on sunday,” Kelsea swallowed, wondering if he’d be interested at all or if he’d get bored of it all, bored of her. Last time they had started in bed and then went from there, Kelsea wondered if their relationship could work if they started a bit more properly, more of a proper courtship. 

“Well then I suppose I could find the time in my very busy schedule for you,” Pen said sarcastically, and that handsome slightly crooked little smile appeared on his face again. And even though Kelsea wasn’t going to say it outloud she felt her shoulders relax a bit and her heart swell in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter!


	5. Lazarus

Lazarus found no trouble pushing through the bustling streets of New London. He was an imposing man of impressive build and generally people got out of his way for him long before they needed to. He knew these streets better than the back of his hand and he made short work of finding his destination. He stopped and stood in front of the building, looking up at it for a few moments. It was no cottage and it was certainly no Keep. He furrowed his brows slightly, hesitating for a moment before he made his way to the flat door. He knocked loudly, his hand falling heavy against the wooden surface. 

“Coming! I’ll be right there!” A familiar voice called out from within. Lazarus felt a bit of relief, though he knew it didn’t show on his face. He knew that voice well. 

The door opened to reveal Kelsea Raleigh standing in front of him- holding onto the door with one hand. Her dark hair was worn down and she wore a large dark green sweater which went past her hips and wrists. A comfortable pair of trousers led down to a pair of slippers. It was a far cry from the black gowns she wore as a queen. The young woman blinked as she stood in the doorway, staring for a silent moment. 

“Lazarus?” Kelsea’s voice was tinged with disbelief as she started to open the door wider. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to take you away this time,” Lazarus stated and watched as his dry sense of humor registered in Kelsea’s eyes.

“Lazarus! You found me,” Kelsea exclaimed as the door was now flung all the way open wide and forgotten. Lazarus stood still as Kelsea threw herself at her guard. She wrapped her arms around his form tightly, pressing the side of her face against his chest where armor used to be. Lazarus felt her fingers curl around the fabric of his coat as she hugged him. He patted her shoulder gruffly with one of his large scarred hands.

“Did you think a queen would be able to hide from the captain of the queen’s guard?” He asked as Kelsea stepped back, releasing him from her embrace. Her face was still flushed with emotion as she stepped aside to let him into her little flat. 

“Not a queen anymore, a librarian,” Kelsea laughed a little and Lazarus noticed her wiping at her eyes delicately. Happy tears.

“Not a guard or Lazarus anymore, but I doubt you could ever change what we really are. A queen is still a queen.” Lazarus looked around Kelsea’s flat. It was what he would have expected from her. Bookcases lined the walls and potted plants and flowers decorated the area and lined the window sills. An armchair sat by one of the windows and was accompanied by an open book and a still steaming cup of tea. He wasn’t surprised that he’d caught her while she was reading.

“Yeah, some queen,” Kelsea rolled her eyes sarcastically. Lazarus was glad to hear a bit of fire in her voice- her old spunk. “Any way, what can I get you? Do you have a preference for tea?” Kelsea turned to look at him as she was making her way to her little kitchenette. 

“I don’t imagine you’ve got a good ale,” Lazarus scoffed as he shook his head. 

“I’ve got ale, is it good? You might not think so,” Kelsea laughed as she reached above her head to grab a mug from the cabinet. “Probably not strong enough for your liking,” She said as she handed Lazarus the mug, still foaming at the top.

“A lightweight, huh?” Lazarus raised an eyebrow as Kelsea retrieved her own mug of tea that had been abandoned. 

“Something like that,” Kelsea said as she took a seat at her little kitchen table across from Lazarus. “I thought you might not come find me,” Kelsea admitted quietly. Lazarus watched her eyes studying him from over the rim of her cup. 

“Why’s that?” Lazarus asked. He’d never been very openly affectionate but he was curious as to what may have given her that impression. 

“You aren’t my guard anymore- you’re under no oaths to come spend time with some nineteen year old that you’ve got no relation to,” Kelsea said honestly.

“To think you have such little faith in us,” Lazarus teased.

“Us?” Kelsea raised an eyebrow. “Have you found the others?”

“I have, and I heard you found Pen, or should I say Andrew?” Lazarus teased as he took a gulp of the ale Kelsea offered him. His eye twitched a bit, it certainly wasn’t what he would have selected. 

“Ah, so you heard, of course you did,” Kelsea huffed and took another sip of her tea.

“I’m surprised he didn’t come find you, considering what a wreck he was whilst you were in the Mort,” Lazarus said and he watched as Kelsea raised an eyebrow. That was right, she didn’t know what had happened in the Keep after she’d been taken prisoner. Lazarus wondered if he should bother even telling her or if it was irrelevant now. 

“Was he?” Kelsea asked quietly. “I know I went against the wishes of all of you, but I felt it truly was the only way I could turn away the invasion,” Kelsea explained quietly. It had been terrifying, painful and heartbreaking but at the same time she remembered feeling such relief at having turned away the Red Queen’s army. 

“As guard you went against all my advice and my wishes,” Lazarus grumbled. “But as a citizen I imagine I would have been grateful to have you as my queen,” He admitted begrudgingly. He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Kelsea. 

“Though I reckon you probably had issues with me as the captain of your guard as well,” Lazarus reasoned. He knew he’d kept many secrets from her, some that were life-changing.

“Yes, especially about the Mort, and my mother,” Kelsea answered honestly. “Speaking of which have you paid my mother a visit yet?”

Leave it to Kelsea to skip beating around the bush, Lazarus expected these sorts of questions from her. 

“No I haven’t seen Elyssa,” Lazarus answered honestly. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her, or if he had anything to say at all. Maybe it was better to leave any loose ends left unsaid. 

“Hm,” Kelsea mused quietly. 

“Wouldn’t she have told you If I had gone to see her?” Lazarus asked, it would make sense after all. In this world Kelsea knew her mother, and had even lived with her while growing up. 

“We aren’t as close as you might suspect, she probably would have kept it herself,” Kelsea said honestly. Her mother was rather secretive, for better or for worse. In the past it had often been for worse. 

“Ah, I see, somethings never change,” Lazarus responded quietly. If Elyssa was still, well, Elyssa then she probably didn’t tell Kelsea too much, if anything about her gentlemen callers. Kelsea was very different from her mother after all, Lazarus couldn’t help but wonder what sorts of things the two women talked about when they were together. Though he could imagine Elyssa being unaware of her daughter’s disinterest if she was talking about something she enjoyed. 

“I’m still reconciling everything that happened with my mother,” Kelsea sighed. “I still feel angry and resentful for the things she did as queen, the situation she left me in just so she could keep her secrets.” Kelsea rubbed her temples, she knew that now her mother hadn't actually done those things. She was a designer and a single mother, sure she was shallow and vain but no one was perfect and she did love Kelsea.

“It’s hard for me to sort out how I feel, so we’ve just been sort of ignoring it,” Kelsea sighed. “And you? Do you plan on talking to my mother?” 

Lazarus paused for a moment, it was a good question. 

“I don’t have any plans to, not at this moment,” He said honestly. That might change, they did have a rich history together, but not all of it was good. There was hurt and betrayal there, an affair and the whole bit. His relationship with Kelsea was much cleaner, and sitting across from her now, he really did wish she was his daughter. 

“I’m glad you came to find me,” Kelsea reaffirmed. “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t want to talk to me anymore,” She laughed at herself a bit and glanced down at her lap. 

“The others want to see you too, but I figured I should see you before everyone barges down your door and crowds you in here,” Lazarus said and he watched Kelsea’s eyes light up. 

“They still want to see me?” Kelsea asked, and the hope she was feeling was obvious in her voice. Some of her guards, no, all of them had died defending her that last day. Pen still remembered it, he said he could remember the pain inflicted on him, the things he saw and felt. By that logic everyone else probably did too, they already had been through so much as guards and Kelsea knew it didn’t come to a good end. She wouldn’t blame them at all if they wanted to start over fresh and leave all of it, including her behind.

“Of course, everyone is thinking of you, we all had similar ideas to come and find you it would seem,” Lazarus explained as he finished the mug of less than excellent ale that Kelsea had offered to him. 

“I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to see me,” Kelsea shrugged with a sad quiet sigh.

“Of course you wouldn’t, that’s why you were such a good queen, you understand that loyalty is not infinite,” Lazarus said. Kelsea was not like Elyssa, who expected loyalty only because of her birthright and not because of her actions. 

“Thank you, Lazarus, I’m glad you think so,” Kelsea said softly. “I’m very glad you think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I really hope this chapter was ok, it took me SOO long to try and write for Lazarus. I'm hoping the future chapters won't be so hard for me but this one was a struggle despite its short length.


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